Armor
by Frances
Summary: Edana Walch is an unlucky nobody whose fortune proves true when an accident causes her mutant abilities to emerge.
1. A Bang Up Job

**Author's Note:** I have this story planned out from start to finish, and I'm pretty excited to write it. If there's not much interest in it, though, I might just wait until the whole thing's finished and post it then. So, if you like it, leave a quick review to let me know! It helps the creative process. ;-P Hope you enjoy the first chapter!   
  
--Frances   
  


  
  
Edana Walch listlessly scrubbed the counter of the 24-hour diner she worked at, keeping one ear on the television while her eyes focused on the blurs of circular motion that were the rags in her hands. One, in her right hand, was soapy and wet, the other, in her left, clean and dry. It was the fastest way to go about it, she had unfortunately discovered in the many late-night hours she spent here. "Wax on, wax off," she muttered to herself, unable to keep a slight smile from overtaking her lips.  
  
There was mechanical popping sound as the toaster expelled its contents. Wiping her hands on her apron, Edana grabbed a plate and positioned the bread on it, adding a plentiful handful of different jellies and butter. She carried it around the counter and across the diner to an elderly, homeless man who came in regularly around this hour, only ever ordering a glass of water. Also regularly, she gave him a plate of toast, free of charge. It wasn't much, but it was about all she could get away with. The obese cook, Betty, who bore an unnerving resemblance to John Goodman, watched through her little kitchen window like a hawk. Fortunately, she always fell asleep around two o'clock, and stayed out for at least an hour unless a customer came in and ordered something more substantial than a side dish and a beverage.  
  
"Here you go, Sir," smiled Edana, like she did every night, setting it down front of him. For tradition's sake, she winked and added, "On the house," even though he certainly knew that by now. He slowly returned her smile, revealing his significant lack of teeth. On her way back to the register, Edana stopped to ask the only other customers, a pair of women so scantily clad as to arouse suspicion, if everything was all right.  
  
"Yeah, sure," one of them said dismissively, blowing a cloud of smoke towards Edana's face before jumping back into her conversation. Turning around deliberately, Edana tried to stifle her coughing as her eyes watered mercilessly. How she detested the smoking section. Her childhood case of asthma had passed long ago, but left her with hopelessly sensitive lungs. Luckily, the smoke was never much of a problem during the night shift, which was the only time she worked. She left here in the morning to head directly to her part-time job at a coffeehouse before heading back to her cramped apartment for barely enough sleep to keep her alive.  
  
Finding her way to one of the bar's many stools, she sighed and folded her arms on the countertop, letting her head drop to rest on them. Frankly, life was on the verge of being one big pathetic joke. She was exhausted physically and mentally, and her savings grew so subtly that she was very near to giving up hope. The thing was, Edana Walch could afford very few friends and had no family. She hadn't any since she was two years old, and had grown up in various foster homes and orphanages. So far, she'd struggled desperately to maintain hope that there was something better for her. The only thing that kept her going was the idea that everybody suffered, and many suffered far more than she. Her entire life had been spent being the optimistic support for whoever needed her, but bit-by-bit Edana was losing that optimism. She was slowly becoming bitter.   
  
It was hard to believe that only a year ago she'd graduated from high school, fresh-faced and ready to earn her way through the world. Two years of hard work and she'd have accumulated enough to start out at a good college and bury her head in books, then she could finally make a better life for herself. But that had not happened. Misfortune followed her like a lost puppy, and her two-year plan had gradually stretched into three. Now it was dangling far too close to four for her liking. Sometimes, she would stare at her leaky, peeling, ceiling and just wonder, What did I do to deserve this? All she'd ever wanted to do was make something in the world better... to die knowing that people would remember her for years to come as someone who'd actually managed to make a difference. Yes, it was sappy. Yes, it was naïve. But the fact was, she was trying harder than any damn person she knew, and the world was kicking her in the shins, pointing and laughing its ugly, snarling, fire-breathing head off.  
  
There was a jingling of bells and Edana nearly jumped out of her skin, jerking up with the unflattering expression of a cat who's been electrocuted. A familiar voice laughed amusedly as she stumbled from her stool and pushed her stupid waitress's hat out of her eyes. She smiled when she saw the new customer was none other than Remy Lebeau, who stopped by occasionally at odd hours and kept her company with casual conversation about anything and everything. That happened, sometimes. Customers, somehow liberated by the late hour and her unfamiliar face, carried on the freest conversation of their entire week. Remy'd kept showing up, and though she didn't know why, she couldn't help but enjoy the fact. He seemed like the type who enjoyed escaping life for just a little while, every so often. He, also, was the single most charming person she'd ever met in her life, but she couldn't quite put her finger on just what it was that made him so. With ravishing good looks and a Cajun accent that spoke of the kind of balmy southern sunsets she'd only dreamed of, however, specifics weren't really required. The only strange thing about him was the fact that he was always wearing dark sunglasses. Sensitive eyes, he said. Edana was dubious, of course, but wasn't the kind to pry.  
  
"Good morning, Remy," she said, clearly happy to see him but unable to mask a thinness of her voice which betrayed her fatigue.  
  
"Good morning yourself, Edana," he replied good-naturedly as he took a seat at the counter.  
  
"Can I interest you in a cup of coffee?" Already knowing the answer despite the strange hour, she grabbed a mug and filled it.  
  
"Dat sounds good. Thanks, p'tite," he said as she handed it to him and leaned casually on the other side of the bar. Edana's brow furrowed as she noticed a rather deep cut running across his forehead.  
  
"That's a nasty looking gash you got there," she observed with concern. "You want some ice for that?"  
  
She was already halfway to the kitchens when he swallowed his sip of coffee and shook his head, waving her back. "No, no... It's fine; sit down. It's nothing," he said insistently.  
  
Smiling a little at his stubbornness, she raised a brow. "Doesn't look like nothing."  
  
"You know, chere, you're not looking so well yourself." He dodged with a somewhat cocky expression.  
  
Frowning a little, she grabbed her earlier discarded dishcloths and began unnecessarily cleaning the counter again. "Well," she muttered, rubbing spiritedly at a spot that she knew wasn't a spot but actually a peculiar fleck in the countertop, "I'm a little tired. My rent's overdue..." She continued to scrub, talking a little faster. "It's been raining all week and my roof leaks. My cat deserted me, my refrigerator's busted and I haven't had a good night's sleep in days." As soon as she somewhat breathlessly finished, she sighed and looked regretfully at the Cajun, abandoning her attempts to scour the bar top.   
  
"Sorry, I didn't mean to vent," she apologized immediately. "I'm just a little tired, really. I guess more tired than I realized," came the sheepish addition.  
  
Grinning victoriously, Remy shrugged. "Don' be sorry. You can't be happy all de time. Everyone's got dey ups and downs, p'tite."  
  
"Yeah," Edana said softly, pulling up a chair to sit across from him. "That's true."  
  
There was a comfortable silence as the women left in a chipper jangle of bells and Remy and Edana both watched the television in the corner for a moment. It was a commercial for adult diapers.  
  
"I wonder what the casting call for this commercial must have looked like," Edana wondered idly.  
  
The strange comment made him laugh, which Edana noted with the slightest satisfaction.  
  
"Not'ing dat would appeal to any actor conscious of his future career, dat much's for sure," he replied, watching a handful of people trying to make bladder control issues seem like a day at the fair as opposed to a drag.  
  
Suddenly, the word "NEWSFLASH" appeared in bold yellow lettering, accompanied by channel 5's dramatic theme song. Remy choked on his coffee.  
  
Ignoring him, Edana crossed the room and reached up to increase the volume as a pretty, well-groomed woman standing in front of a crowded, trashed intersection appeared. Her hair danced slightly in the early autumn wind, and her face was tinted every so often by the flashing of police lights.  
  
"Hello again, I'm Kiara Johnson bringing you a channel five newsflash. Chaos erupted earlier tonight here on Burke Street when an anti-mutant rally got out of hand. This is only one of many recent rallies, but took an unexpected turn when a mutant was hunted down and beaten by angry protestors. An attempt to set fire to the man, whose name has not been disclosed, was foiled, however, when he somehow propelled the torch from the protestor's hand and sent it flying through a window of the apartment building behind me, which caught flame. Fortunately, the controversial X-Men arrived on the scene, rescuing residents, putting out the fire, and bringing the rally to a stop. None of them were available for comment. The mutant is in critical condition at a local hospital, and new information will be broadcasted as it becomes available. This has been Kiara Johnson for channel five news, reminding you that you heard it here first. We'll now return to your regularly scheduled programming."  
  
Edana stared at the screen for a while after the newsflash disappeared, brow furrowed, biting her lip. Finally, she turned away and shook her head. "Poor man," she sighed, forgetting she'd already washed the counter twice and proceeding to wipe it down again.  
  
"Why you have to watch dat junk, chere?" Remy asked softly, staring into his coffee.  
  
"Well," she said slowly, considering his question in earnest. "I like hearing about the X-Men," she said with a slight smile, as if it were somewhat embarrassing or silly.  
  
"You like hearing about dem losers?" he asked with an inscrutable smile.  
  
"They aren't losers," Edana corrected him seriously. "Quite the opposite, really. They're... extremely lucky."  
  
"Lucky!" he echoed, not bothering to mask his utter surprise.  
  
"Well, yeah," she reasoned, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the counter and her chin in her hands. "I mean, they get to go out there every day-"  
  
"Risking their lives, risking everyt'ing," Remy interjected stubbornly.  
  
"Yes, risking everything," Edana insisted with a dreamy smile, oblivious to his sudden shift in mood. "Risking their lives every day for something they believe in. I'm a little envious, to tell you the truth."  
  
"You envy dem," he repeated in disbelief.  
  
"Yeah," she sighed. "I guess I really do."  
  
For a second he just stared at her, unable to comprehend the fact that anyone would desire the kind of life they lead. He thought of the professor, however, and his confusion was somewhat assuaged. Some people were driven by past experience. Others, though, were truly driven by their dreams. He supposed each one of the X-Men shared a little of that dream, but all of them had other reasons for fighting, as well. But Edana must be a little like the professor. She seemed to carry some experience with her, but put most of her emotional stock in her beliefs. Add in the fact that this girl conveniently hadn't a clue what it was like to fight day after day, and her envy was probably merited.  
  
"You are somethin', chere," he admitted with a shake of his head. "To each his own, I guess, as dey say."  
  
"Well," he said, finishing the last of his coffee in a gulp as he stood up and fished around in his trench coat pocket for his wallet. "I guess I should get out of here." They headed over to the cash register, where he handed her a bill. "Keep de change," he said distractedly as she started to pull out ones. The bell clanged, but, thinking it was just the homeless man leaving, neither of them looked. "You... eh... you were right about de X-Men," he said slowly, a smile creeping onto his lips. "I guess dey are pretty lucky."  
  
Edana closed the drawer and looked up at him with a broad smile, but her face froze as her eyes trailed over his shoulder.  
  
"Wha--?"  
  
Before he could turn around, he felt a gun pressed into his back and heard a click as it was cocked. He raised his hands and mentally cursed himself, furious that someone had caught him here, a place in which he usually enjoyed the ability to let his guard down a little.  
  
"Fill this bag with all the money in the register or your friend gets it," commanded the harsh voice of a native New Yorker.  
  
Edana stared at the short, rather squat man in a ski mask for a moment, silent.  
  
"Do it!" he yelled, giving Remy a shove. Taking the bag, she opened the cash drawer and began filling it.  
  
"Hurry up!"  
  
"Hey, what's going on out there?" Betty demanded, sticking her large head through the window that lead to the kitchen.  
  
"Stay back there, Betty!" Edana called through grit teeth, not looking over her shoulder. Adrenaline was spreading through her veins like wildfire, but a glance at Remy revealed that he seemed unusually calm.  
  
"Shut up!" bellowed the thief, glowering at her. "I got the gun; I give the orders! You keep filling the bag at this rate and you're looking at a steel salad- you got that? And you! You keep your fat ass back there!" he shouted, pointing the gun at Betty's window. That was all the chance Remy needed. He spun around and kicked the gun out the man's hand, sending it in an arc over the counter where it clattered to a rest at Edana's feet. Remy punched the man squarely in the nose, creating a sickening crunch that was doubtlessly a breaking bone.  
  
"Grab the gun, Edana!" Remy yelled, sending the man to the floor with another powerful punch.  
  
Dropping the moneybag, Edana clumsily scrambled for the gun at her feet, but in her franticness accidentally kicked it, sending it clattering down past the end of the bar. She dove after it, and nearly had her hands on it when a pasty white hand snatched it out of her grasp.  
  
"STAY BACK!" shouted the thief, scrambling to his feet and yanking Edana with him, pointing the gun at the middle of her forehead. A breathy, maniacal laughter escaped his throat as Remy froze, jaw tensing for the first time. "I coulda been out of your hair by now, if you'd just given me what I wanted." His voice was queer, shaky. "But you had to play hero. And now you're both gonna die."  
  
Edana squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, visibly shaking as she tried not to cry out. Her miserable, pathetic life seemed to flash before her eyes, and was over just as quickly as it had started. Was this how she was going to go down? Just another worthless nobody slinking around New York with no one to thank her and no one to mourn her passing? Having wasted her life waiting for the perfect moment to start changing the world, and never having found it?  
  
"Don't do dis; jus' take de money," Remy started in calmly, hands raised submissively.  
  
Edana fearfully looked at the man and, for a second, he looked back at her. And she knew.  
  
"DON'T!" Remy's cry was lost over the deafening blast of the gun. A blinding, white-hot pain overwhelmed Edana as she slid down the wall, blood running in streams down her face. She frantically grabbed at her forehead to try and somehow halt the excruciating sensation, a strangled cry escaping her throat. This was it. She had not been granted an instantaneous death; instead, life got its last jab in, letting her die slowly and painfully. There was scuffling going on around her, but the room was spinning and her vision darkening... the noise seemed somehow unimportant. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as her fingertips dug into a dip in her forehead and a hard, now exposed surface. Oh, God, couldn't the pain just stop? Couldn't she just die? What was that- the flat end of the bullet embedded in her brain? It didn't seem right, but her head was splitting in two and nothing was right. Gasping in pain and forcing her eyes open, she saw her own lap through tunnel vision and her tears, and was mystified by what she saw there.  
  
It was... a bullet?  
  
She felt herself being moved and heard a voice from far away. "Oh, Jesus Christ... What... What de hell?"  
  
The last thing Edana saw before darkness closed in was a pair of haunting red and black eyes, looming over her. Then, there was nothing.  
  



	2. Don't Bug Me OR A Little Crabby

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews! Oh, and because I forgot this before the last chapter: Edana is the product of my wacky imagination, but I own nothing else... despite what I might like to believe. Anyway, here's the next bit... enjoy!  
  
--Frances   
  


  
  
The stillness was overwhelming. Edana became aware of the black oblivion she was submersed in, but the feeling that she was composed of arms and legs- flesh and blood- was no longer present. Her awareness seemed to be the only part of her existence. _I think, therefore I am,_ she recited blankly. It seemed a stupid way of reasoning, now. _Have I died? Is this... is this death?_ Somehow she could not feel upset or afraid, but she didn't feel peaceful, either. She had always thought dying was a way for a weathered soul to find peace, but it seemed she had found nothing it all. The only thing she felt was overpoweringly... sluggish. But she supposed a dead person might feel that way.  
  
Then, gradually, she noticed a mounting pain around the middle of her head. _That's right,_ she thought slowly, _I have a head._ It began to throb, slightly at first and then more fiercely, and she felt the blood pumping in her ears. At this realization, she felt recognition creeping through her body as she noted her torso, arms, legs, fingertips, and toes. She was still floundering in the darkness, and couldn't summon the energy to move, but as she felt her chest rise and fall as air passed through her lips, Edana realized that she could not possibly be dead. A faint, steady beeping sound reached her ears, which she thought might be some kind of heart monitor. Was she in a hospital, then? Why would she be there, again...?   
  
Her memory returned in little pieces, like water dripping through a crack. As she remembered what had happened to her, her throat tightened and she felt a swell of panic rising in her chest. By all means, she should be dead. Or at least dying. Was she dying? Edana struggled to open her eyes, and was instantly blinded by the white light that flooded them. The pain in her head was instantly multiplied a tenfold. Groaning, she squeezed her eyes shut again as tears sprung to them.  
  
Feeling infinitely more awake, Edana summoned the strength to raise one arm and throw it over her face to block some of the bothersome fluorescent lighting. She heard a door open a few feet away, accompanied by the sound of someone speaking.  
  
"I'll just check and see if it's in here," a young male voice said far too loudly for Edana's taste. "Oh..." There was a beat. "HEY, HANK! I THINK SHE'S AWAKE!"  
  
The thundering exclamation was amplified enormously by her gargantuan headache, and for a few seconds she feared the pressure in her head was actually going to cause it to explode. Slowly lowering her arm and squinting through the slightly less intense brightness, Edana stared blearily as a curious face swam into focus. The man was only a few years older than her, with sandy hair and round, chilly blue eyes sparked with the faintest hint of mischief.  
  
"Hi..." she said nervously, but found her throat to be so dry that it came out like more of a croak and sent her into a coughing fit.  
  
"It would be considerate of you to lower your voice, Robert," sounded another, softer voice that Edana just caught over her sputtering as she struggled into a sitting position. "Here, drink this." Gratefully accepting the glass of water handed to her, she took a small sip and then, realizing suddenly that she was unbelievably parched, proceeded to chug the rest of the water as though her life depended on it. When she finished, she looked up, and straight into the fanged smile of a hairy, blue beast.  
  
Edana started, eyes widening in alarm, and the movement resulted in a sharp pain shooting from between her temples all the way down her spine. The heart monitor began beeping significantly faster as the cup fell from her hand.  
  
"Do not be frightened," said the furry creature reassuringly. "I am Doctor McCoy; you may call me Hank. My appearance is merely the result of my mutation."  
  
"Think of him as big, living teddy bear," chimed in the young man from before, who had wandered toward a tray of medical supplies to Edana's left. Mind spinning, she struggled to take in the sterile, white room and its humming equipment, some of which was attached to directly to her, mostly at the wrist.  
  
"This is Robert Drake," Hank explained, looking at him sternly. "Who I believe was just leaving."  
  
Robert looked somewhat put out at that, but took a roll of bandages from the tray and turned to leave. "I'll tell the Cajun she's awake," he announced as he left, lazily tapping the top of the doorframe as he passed through it. "Oh, and I'll see you around," he added over his shoulder with boyish smile and little wave.  
  
After he disappeared, Edana ran her eyes over the room again and was almost moved to tears by the utter lack of sense that everything seemed to make. Hank was busily checking her stats, which she supposed was probably an immediate concern, but she was also fairly certain that she was not dying and that she needed some answers immediately or her head was going to pop off. "What... where am I?" she asked thickly, trying to make heads or tails of something- _anything_ that was going on.  
  
Checking a few of the perplexing monitors as he spoke, Dr. McCoy was kind enough to answer her slowly and completely. "You are in the medical wing of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. It is a private school for young mutants, but we seek to help older mutants as well. Remy Lebeau, a mutant who lives here at the mansion, brought you to me after you were shot. That was three days ago."  
  
"Three days ago?" Edana echoed, her heart skipping a beat. "Then... Remy's a mutant? Why did he bring me here instead of a hospital? Why- why aren't I dead?" The questions poured from her mouth more demandingly than she'd intended, and she felt a blush creep into her cheeks as Hank laughed and turned to face her, a clipboard in hand.  
  
"Well, the answer to the first two questions is yes. You have been in a coma for three days, due to a concussion, and Remy is indeed a mutant. In regards to the latter two questions..." Dr. McCoy picked up a hand-mirror sitting on the tray in front of him and handed it to Edana, who received it with a questioning look. "I think perhaps you would better understand if you could see for yourself."  
  
The first thing she noticed was that her head was tightly wound in the white bandaging Robert had retrieved earlier, and the second thing she noticed was how awful she looked. Her ivory colored complexion was washed out and tinged with yellow, her normally bright green eyes dull, sluggish orbs that were unusually prominent from their position in her now somewhat gaunt-looking face. It seemed not even three days' sleep could cure the bags under her eyes, and the unflattering, baffled expression Edana noticed she was wearing merely added to the picture.  
  
She was about to ask how her reflection was supposed to answer her questions when Hank began unwrapping the bandage around her head. As more and more was removed, Edana's chest began to tighten a little. She could not squelch a rising anxiety as her mind whirred with the images of grotesque, life-shattering scars. What could have possibly spared her life? Her mouth ran dry.  
  
Of all that she could have in her wildest dreams expected to see, nothing could even come close to what she was confronted by.  
  
"Oh!" The stifled exclamation was all Edana could manage as her free hand went to her mouth in shock. In the middle of her forehead, diamond-shaped, deep green, and glinting in the light, was a large jewel. At least, that's what it looked like. Running her fingertips over it delicately, she was most alarmed to discover that the bizarre protrusion was warm, as though it was alive. She felt around the edges, seeking to feel a separation point, but it was seamlessly fused to the rest of her head. "What... what is it?" she asked shakily, afraid of what she might be told but still hopelessly curious.  
  
"It's your skull, Edana," Dr. McCoy explained gently. When she began to shake her head in protest, he quickly continued. "The night you arrived, you had a bullet-sized hole burned into the flesh on your forehead. Under the now removed skin, however, was not typical human bone, but rather this material," he said gesturing to her forehead. "An x-ray revealed that as opposed to an ordinary skeleton, you have a very strange structure... something akin to a bug's exoskeleton."  
  
"I have no bones?" she echoed faintly, feeling vaguely horrified and more than a little repulsed.  
  
"Well, I can't be entirely certain," Hank admitted truthfully. "Because the x-rays cannot not penetrate your 'second skin' of sorts, it would require much more dramatic measures to determine how it is, exactly, your body functions. There's more, however," he said, not noting Edana's extremely downtrodden expression as he did so. "The impact of the bullet was still enough to injure your brain, which resulted in a concussion, as well as, I believe, a triggering of your further mutation. During the first two days, that growth on your forehead steadily became more prominent, and the skin above it died and flaked off. It resulted in what you see in that mirror, but I doubt that the process is entirely complete. I believe that when you learn to control your abilities, you will be able to shed your skin completely to reveal the exoskeleton beneath."  
  
Edana's head lowered, brow knit as she struggled to digest the massive amount of information. Still, it led to one very clear conclusion. "I'm a mutant, then..." she said quietly, the words tasting strange in her mouth. "And green."  
  
Chuckling, Dr. McCoy patted her shoulder. "Well, there's always the chance that you will also be able to grow a new layer of skin over your exoskeleton, if you learn to control your abilities. In regards to color, however, we won't know for sure until it happens... but yes, you probably are green. And it's a good thing, because we have a surplus of blue mutants running around already. The change will be welcome."  
  
Grinning at his lightheartedness despite herself, Edana tried to envision herself not only as a mutant, but one that could not disguise her race. _How am I ever going to go back to work like this?_ she wondered in dismay as she took one last look in the mirror before placing it back on the tray.  
  
"You won't have to. Not if you do not wish."  
  
The sudden reply to what had been a purely mental question sent a chill down Edana's spine. She looked up to see that a man in some sort of wheelchair had entered the room, and was watching her with a gaze that was not harsh or accusatory, but unnervingly piercing nonetheless. He was bald, which made it difficult to determine his age any more specifically than the observation that he was much older than she. Edana quickly realized that he must also be a mutant... some sort of telepath.  
  
"Ah," smiled Hank, turning around. "Edana, I would like you to meet Professor Charles Xavier, the founder of this institute."  
  
"How are you feeling?" asked the professor courteously, directing his wheelchair, (which Edana suddenly realized had no wheels) closer to her bedside.  
  
She hesitated, knowing that the truth wasn't exactly the stuff of affable chitchat. "I'm feeling well," she lied, forcing a smile. "Thank you. And thank you for..." Looking around, Edana wasn't sure how to verbalize it. "This. Everything."  
  
"Think nothing of it," he said, shaking his head. "We're glad that we were able to help you."  
  
The feeling of having her life saved by complete strangers was slightly awkward, so, tongue-tied, Edana just smiled shyly. Receiving help was not something she was accustomed to.  
  
"Edana, I'm sure that you have realized you possess an extraordinary gift," he said seriously, in a tone that suggested he was broaching a new and important subject.  
  
_I don't know about extraordinary, but it's definitely weird,_ she thought darkly, immediately regretting it when she remembered that this man had read her mind earlier.  
  
"We are all _unique_ here," Professor Xavier said gently, placing emphasis on the word 'unique'. "That is why I would like to offer you the opportunity to stay here at the mansion to learn the extent of your new ability, and to train with the other members of the institute to learn how to master it for the benefit of mankind."  
  
Edana's eyes widened slightly when he mentioned that they were inside a mansion. Somehow it was just incomprehensible. _All_ of it seemed impossible, though; this was not a situation she would have ever pictured herself in. When he went on to remark about training to benefit mankind, her heart performed a little flip-flop and settled at a dull flutter in the pit of her stomach. It seemed to be the most (and to be honest, first) unexpected, fortunate event of her life. Then, suddenly the news story from three nights ago flashed through her brain and something seemed to click into place. _Could it be?_  
  
"Yes," Xavier confirmed quietly with a slight nod, seemingly pleased that she could draw the conclusion herself. "This institution is the base of operations for the X-Men."  
  
She didn't know what to say. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as her mind churned the astonishing information and sought words to describe her feelings. Was this happening? Could it even be real? "I... I don't know how much help I can be," Edana said finally, feeling that it was not wise to make any presumptions about what she would and would not be able to do, "but I want to learn to use my ability for good... and to do whatever I can to help the X-Men." The words were spoken with flustered but true sincerity.  
  
"I am glad," smiled the professor. His presence was somehow less unnerving now than when he had come in. "If you are well enough tomorrow morning, I will send someone to show you to the dining room for breakfast. It will give you a chance to meet the other mutants that live here at the institute." Edana was more than certain that she would be well enough. "I hope to see you then."  
  
"You will," she said as he left, the words sparking a jolt of anticipation. "Right?" came the less confident addition, directed at Dr. McCoy.  
  
"I don't see any reason to hold you here beyond tomorrow morning," he replied with a smile. "You are recovering faster than I would have expected. I'll give you some pain medication, and you should be fine... as long as you spend today resting."  
  
"I can do that," she grinned.  
  
"There's a television in the corner; the remote can be found on your bedside table, and I'll have some food brought down in about half an hour. If you need anything before then, there's an intercom on the wall above your bed. Was there anything else you wanted to ask me?"  
  
After thinking for a moment, nothing seemed to come to mind. "No," Edana said, shaking her head. "Thank you, though. For helping me. And for being patient with me," she fumbled, unable to completely verbalize how grateful she was for the effort he had put into saving her life.  
  
"Not at all, my dear. I have to say, however, I believe it was you who was the patient," he said lightly.  
  
Edana laughed, settling back into her pillow as he turned to leave. Once she was alone, she took a deep breath and released it slowly, staring at the sterile white ceiling as though it held some kind of secret that would make sense of everything that had happened. After a few minutes, she supposed it didn't really matter. Life was finally looking up, and the last thing she was going to do was question good fortune. Perhaps it made no sense to her because it was something she had never really experienced. Nevertheless, it was something she was more than willing to get used to.  



End file.
